Author's Note:

Usual thanks to my reviewers, followers, lurkers, etc. Not much else for me to say here.

Oh yeah, I'm posting this with my iPad while on a break at school, so there are probably several formatting issues until I can get my hands on my home computer to fix it.

Enjoy!

- BB

The Harder They Fall
Chapter One: Not the Most Homey of Places

"The colicoids make for poor company." - Minara Tao

The very second Minara set foot on the planet of Balmorra, she wanted to turn around and leave again. This was the very last thing she wanted to be doing. But if this—killing colicoids and jumping into pits of toxic waste—was what it would take to become a Darth and gain enough freedom to contact her sister and secretly begin sabotaging the Empire, she would do it.

It wasn't easy, playing both sides of the war. As much as she wished she wasn't Sith, Minara knew she could never be a Jedi. The rules and obligations amounted upon the Order were far too infringing on her freedom, and she knew her anger, hatred, and thirst for revenge upon the Empire would never be accepted in the Jedi. She would forever be in limbo, an exceptionally powerful wielder of both light and dark, but with nowhere to go, no one to accept her. The Jedi may tolerate her existence, but she would never be accepted as one of their own, as she knew she could never give up these emotions that defined everything she had left to live for.

She had accepted this early on, when she'd decided to submit herself to the Academy (not that she had a whole lot of choice in the matter). But that didn't make it any easier.

One of the hardest parts was maintaining Khem Val's trust. When it came to combat, Minara was more reliant on force powers and lightning than lightsaber skill (though said skills were certainly nothing to laugh about) so having him around to take the brunt of the heavy hits made him an invaluable addition to her crew. But he was an assassin in every sense of the word. If a decision came down to life or death (especially with members of the Republic) she'd almost infallibly choose life. Such choices didn't gain her any points of approval in his book, and he made no secret of it. So, she had to be careful. Though she'd beaten him when they first met, she doubted he'd allow her the opportunity to do so a second time.

Her regret for dragging Iannos Tyrek back to the Empire after he'd managed to escape to the Republic unscathed plagued her, but it was the only way to get her hands on the artifact she needed, even if his views of "slaving day in and day out" while being paid to create weapons grated on her. Thoughts of You know nothing of being a slave bitterly crossed her mind more than once during her initial conversation with the former Imperial scientist.

She had given him her word that he could walk away without any protest from the Empire under her orders once the work was done, but it was a promise she wasn't sure she could keep.

Minara was entirely too kind, in the eyes of other Sith. They saw her as weak, though she was determined to prove herself as anything but. No doubt her mercy would come back to bite her in the ass one day, given her treatment of Major Bessiker's son Hiran after she received the coordinates to his location. He was apparently captured, and Bessiker had refused to help her unless she got him back. She had to give the man credit for electing to back a Sith into a corner in order to help his son. She really had no choice but to go after the boy.

Then again, most Sith would likely have killed Bessiker for such an action and screamed at someone until they were presented with another way to solve their problem. He had evidently sensed her avoidance of violence in his dealings with her, using it to satisfy his own goals. How... Imperial. And yet, she was not under the impression that he thought of her as weak, either. She got a heavy sense of respect from him, and so she respected him in kind. But his affection for his son unsurprisingly outweighed any regard for his respect for her. She filed that away in her mind for later... especially when it turned out Hiran was an insufferable, arrogant bastard.

"The old man sent you for me, didn't he?" The imprisoned Sith responded upon her approach to his cell, "He must have gotten my distress signal. Guess the old fool's still good for something."

Her gaze remained carefully impassive, though Hiran's behaviour had set off explosions of rage within her after she'd just fought through slews of the Balmorran militia just to free him. Truth be told, she hadn't been expecting a great first impression of the Sith to begin with, but his lack of respect for his father had her biting back the scathing words and masking the feelings that would otherwise betray her outer lack of concern. You're lucky the "old fool" is still alive and kicking, you disgusting waste of Force energy.

She was tempted to turn around and leave him there when he outright demanded that she free him. As her equal, he had no right to demand anything of her, and then he had the gall to threaten her. She nearly laughed in his face!

It was her respect for Hiran's father that ultimately had her agreeing to free the boy, and if she left him there, there was no guarantee that Bessiker would help her. And so, as Hiran walked away unscathed, she mused that if she ever saw him again, he wouldn't be so lucky.

Her later dealings with Dr. Tyrek once she returned to Bessiker were admittedly more pleasant once he understood that all she wanted from him was a serum to grant her immunity to the toxic waste near the vault, and though he was confused as to why she needed it, he followed through with his research anyway. Fortunately, arranging for the man's freedom hadn't been an issue. The authority she wielded as an apprentice still surprised her sometimes, though she was sure it had had Zash spitting fire from her office back on Dromund Kaas when she learned of Minara's mercy. Khem Val certainly wasn't singing her praises for the decision.

"Ugh." She grumbled, covering her nose with the back of her hand once they'd dispatched of the local colicoids populating the entrance of the toxic vault. She turned to look up at her towering companion, "Smells rank down here. This serum had better work."

Khem Val, remaining characteristically stoic, didn't reply, and they set into the vault to retrieve their desired artifact.

The stench of colicoid blood was overwhelming, and Minara was endlessly glad that she typically fought from a distance. Stars knew she didn't want that stuff on her. These were her favourite robes, but they were a nightmare to clean on a good day. The presence of colicoid blood marring the reddish fabric would likely have her burning them just to rid herself of the smell.

Not that it mattered anyway. The damn colicoid broodmother seemed determined to make the ranged-fighting Sith her main target, even with Khem batting away at the insectoid's knees with his massive vibrosword. By the time the mutated creature had finally fallen, Minara was virtually covered in blood—both her own and that of the broodmother—though her own injuries were trivial compared to the ones delivered by the combined effort of her and her begrudgingly devoted companion.

Exhausted, she approached the altar and expended what little was left of her Force energy to electrify the mechanism and acquire the holocron she'd worked so bloody (pun intended) hard to obtain.

She was happy to finally be done with the place once the artifact was in her hands. She was done with the whole planet, really. When Darth Lachris called upon her a second time to assist with the Balmorran occupation, she politely declined, thankful to finally be able to say "good riddance" to both the planet, and its damn colicoids. Her standing within the Empire called for a certain amount of cooperation regarding the Balmorran resistance and their violation of the peace treaty, but now that Minara had what she'd come for, she had no desire to devote any more energy to helping Lachris or the rest of the Empire than she had to.

So she bid her farewells to Bessiker and his Captain before finally heading back to the Fury to report to Zash and set a course for their next destination, take a much-needed rest, and a shower. Not necessarily in that order.

"Ah, apprentice!" Zash greeted in that achingly too-friendly voice. Minara knew her tendency toward mercy annoyed her master greatly, though for some reason, the woman never berated her for it. Zash was admittedly one of the friendliest Sith Minara had met, which only made her that much more suspicious. There was an ulterior motive there somewhere. This, she knew without question, and thus fully expected her master to betray her at some point, but she had no idea how, or how she could possibly avoid it given how much she needed her master this early in her career as a Sith.

"I have the artifact." The apprentice reported.

"Excellent!" Zash continued, "I trust Major Bessiker was a good help, and that your stay on Balmorra was a pleasant one?"

"He was," Minara replied, then her face twisted into a grimace, "though I can't say I'd recommend the planet as a good vacation destination. The colicoids make for poor company."

Her master grinned, "Well, then you'll be pleased to know I've traced another artifact to Nar Shaddaa, but I'm still trying to locate the other two. I'll see what I can learn while you're on Nar Shaddaa."

Minara nodded her understanding, and Zash beckoned her away, "Now hurry. There can be no gain without haste."

The holo winked out of view and Minara let her shoulders sag with a sigh. "First thing's first." She muttered to herself, turning and stalking purposefully to her quarters. She beckoned to her steward droid to follow before disappearing into her room and trying futilely to scrape some of the yellowish blood from her clothing with her gloves.

Failing miserably, she regretfully stripped the beloved robes from her body, gagging at the stench and threw on a light sleeping shirt before opening the door and unceremoniously tossing the dirtied clothing at the droid waiting outside.

"Burn these robes." She ordered, turning away and grabbing another set of robes before heading to the 'fresher, calling to the droid as she passed him, "And be thankful you have no sense of smell!"

"Y—yes Master." The droid spluttered, before turning sharply on a metallic heel and rushing back into the hall, "Right away, Master!"